Resurrection II: Cloister of Trials
by AuronLu
Summary: Lulu finds an intruder in her room and invents a Cloister of Trials that just might kill the man, were he not already dead. M stands for leMon in chapters 2, 4, 5.
1. Intruder

The Calm Lands spread out like an inland sea where wanderers might drift for years without finding a familiar shore. Ripples of vibrant green grass lapped at distant cliffs and serene sky. At night, the stars were brilliant. The deadly serenity of these vast plains had lulled countless travelers into carelessness. Yuna and her friends, however, had learned too well the lessons that danger might lurk anywhere - in a temple, in a Maester's twisted heart - and were hardly likely to be fooled by the secretive music of the wind rustling through lonely grasses. They knew that fiends stalked the shadows and roamed freely even under the bright light of day. So they had steered a loose course towards the Al Bhed inn that lay roughly midway across the plains. After a few days' travel and more than a few fiends, Wakka himself had crowed Rin's praises when they stumbled into the enclosed yard surrounding one of his immaculately-maintained establishments.

There had been a snag, however, when they checked in for the evening. Refugees had been streaming into every Agency since the Al Bhed home's destruction, and there were only a few small rooms left, not enough for all of Yuna's party. While they were debating options in the lobby, Sir Auron moved off and settled on a seat by the wall, stretching out his legs and propping his sword against the arms of the chair. "This will do fine."

"Sir Auron!" Yuna wrung her hands. "I'm sure we could squeeze you and Rikku into a room together."

The older Guardian chuckled. "No, thanks."

"Hey!" The Al Bhed girl glared over at him. "He's being mean again!"

Kimahri reversed his spear and tapped the roof-beams overhead. "Kimahri guard outside," he announced, turning and marching towards the door. The mountain-born Ronso was prone to perching on outcrops and rocky ledges over their campsites, so they knew he would be perfectly happy dozing on the roof. However-

"Kimahri, don't interrupt!" Rikku was working herself up to another of her minor explosions.

Auron ignored Rikku and pushed up his glasses. "Yuna, it's fine. This is better than some of the places Jecht found for me and Lord Braska. Go on. Let's not waste time arguing over beds."

Realizing there was little chance of budging him, the party had separated for the evening. The cousins went off together to share one room, Wakka and Tidus another, and Lulu, by unspoken consent, was given the remaining room and a wide berth. She had been suspiciously quiet since their encounter with Father Zuke a few hours ago, and no one wanted to risk a tongue-lashing by asking the wrong question.

* * * * *

Lulu returned from the small washroom down the hall and closed the door behind her with a soft click and a sigh of satisfaction. Getting the stench of Marlboro-poison out of her long hair was of more worth to her right now than fine accommodations. That was just as well, since the narrow room where she had been installed did not afford many. A window, a chair, a long padded shelf for a bed, and a lamp in a niche up on the wall: that was all. It was still palatial compared to some of their lodgings on this journey. She would not soon forget the ice caves of Macalania.

Lulu snapped a small flame between her fingers and reached up to light the oil lamp, then settled down on the edge of the bed to comb out and braid her damp hair. The end of the narrow room was quite dark, but she suddenly realized that there should have been moonlight filtering through the curtains. Sure enough, there was a shadow blocking the lower half of the window. Immediately she clenched her fingers into a loose fist, knuckles dancing with sparks, and drew back her hand.

"It's me."

The sorceress lowered her hand and let the tiny chains of lightning dissipate slowly, dancing up and down her bare arm. "Kimahri must have dropped his guard and missed the fiend climbing in through the window. I wonder if I should call the others."

"I recall your handling a similar threat a few nights ago," Auron said mildly, taking a swig from his jug and setting it on the sill. "I would not trouble them."

Seated on the small stool before the window with arms folded, leaning back against the windowframe, Auron was watching her with relaxed detachment- indifference, she might once have thought. It was a wise move on his part. Tidus had accidentally entered the wrong room when they were staying in Luca and found himself bodily ejected by a minor thunderbolt. Lulu valued her privacy.

She admitted to herself that she honestly did not mind Auron's presence, however. After mulling over several options, she dispensed with those that would leave him singed. "So what brings you here to trouble me?" she queried guardedly.

"You seemed... preoccupied."

She shrugged. "Hardly a surprise." There was an edged warning in those words, and she changed the subject deftly. "I think we ought to stop by the Cavern of the Stolen Fayth before we attempt the mountain pass. Yojimbo could be a powerful ally. "

"Hm." He rubbed his chin absently. "Perhaps."

Lulu frowned at his lukewarm response. "This isn't about Lady Ginnem's death," she insisted. "I confess, I should like to pay my respects. But my duty now is to Yuna. My only concern is to ensure that she has as many allies as possible, especially since Yevon and the Maesters are against us. Every Aeon could make a difference for her chances at journey's end."

"I wonder." As usual, there was little to read in his expression or his tone.

"Sir Auron?" She raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem with Yojimbo?"

"No." He tipped the stool forward, boots hitting the floor with a soft thump. "You're right. He drives a hard bargain, but he could prove useful." The older Guardian waved a hand wearily. "Very well."

The mage tilted her head. "Auron, are _you_ all right? I saw what happened when Yuna started to Send Lady Belgemine today. You take no small risk, traveling with a Summoner. Sooner or later Yuna may catch you by accident."

"I have some skill at dodging."

She shook her head in exasperation. "Dodging questions, anyway."

He shrugged. "You're the one who likes giving long explanations."

"And evicting intruders who fail to satisfy me."

He raised an eyebrow, but did not rise to the bait. "I'll go, if you wish."

A pregnant silence fell. The dancing threads of lightning from the mage's spell had faded away by now, and Auron's end of the long, narrow room was plunged into shadow once more. She could only catch the faint flicker of flame reflected on his glasses, the gold medallions on his boots, the sheath of his sword propped against the wall. In the wavering light of the lamp beside her, Lulu gleamed a pale gold wherever her bare skin was not covered by the soft, sleeveless linen guest-robe that she had picked up in the washroom.

"I do not." Lulu exhaled, her fingers absently combing the same area over and over. "Even if we defeat Sin and save Yuna, we won't see you after that...will we?"

"Probably not." He looked up, expression opaque. "Best not to get too attached."

She knew she must be tired; no barbed retort had sprung to mind. "Well," she said a little too quietly. "I suppose we had better make the most of you while you're with us."

His eye glinted. "That would be wise."

She tilted her head in a silent invitation, but said nothing. She went on combing her hair.

Auron's mouth twisted into a crooked smile at the unspoken message: he would have to come to her.

Unwrapping his gauntlet and hanging it on his sword-hilt, the swordsman stood up and removed his coat, dropping it onto the chair loosely folded. His battered metal cuirass joined it with a thump. Auron never hurried, moving as if conserving all his energy for a fatal sword-strike, one deadly burst of motion and metal that left utter devastation in its wake. Now was no exception. He would come to her when it suited him.

Enjoying the unspoken ballet between them, and enjoying more her unobstructed view of his broad chest and shoulders, Lulu started in on her braids. Auron crossed the small room and settled next to her with a creak. Quietly he gathered the rest of her wet hair into his hands and lifted it to one side, planting a kiss on the back of her neck.

She breathed in deeply, shivering once again at the uncanny electric pulse from his merest touch.

Wordlessly he collected a few tresses out of the wild mass and started another braid. The soft, quick movements tugged at her scalp. Lulu almost laughed aloud. Auron, Legendary Hero, wasting time over a lady's hair? But the solicitous attention felt decadent. There was something deliciously sensual about the rhythmic motion of braiding, especially when someone else was doing it. The regular twisting motion of hair brushing against her neck and upper back tickled pleasantly.

He leaned over and kissed the tip of one ear, inhaling her scent. Oh, yes, she was glad that she had not shooed him out with a thunderbolt.

"A pity," he murmured, fingertips caressing her upper back through her robe as he worked his way down the plait.

"Mmm?" She slipped a bead onto the braid she had just finished and turned towards him to trail the loose end up his chest.

"I like your hair better loose." Auron paused and brushed his fingers through the gleaming black waves cascading down past her waist, causing the damp cloth of her robe to stick to her skin. "But we can't have you getting tangled up with the bedposts, I suppose."

Ah, he was asking for it. Her eyes gleamed. "Are you volunteering instead?"

He jerked down on the braid, pulling the hair of her scalp. "I can always use these."

She snorted. "And I can incinerate your hands. But we must careful; we don't want to wake the neighbors."

"Or ignite the bed."

Lulu chuckled softly and leaned over to kiss the tip of his nose, too amused by his uncharacteristic flirting to be properly aloof just now. "Tidus is right. You truly are a troublemaker. I like that."

"I'll keep it in mind," he grunted, reaching around with the lock he was plaiting to slide it across the top of her breasts. She let out a pleased sigh, brushing her knuckles against the back of his hand.

Lulu was quite relaxed by the time they had come to the end of the other two braids. It usually did not take her so long to finish putting her hair up for the night, but a six-foot bare-chested warrior in close proximity made for a pleasant distraction.

Tucking the end of the last braid into a bead, Auron dipped his head to sample the outer curve of her ear with the tip of his tongue. "Are we finished here?"

Lulu made a soft, pleased noise in the back of her throat and hitched herself around on the edge of the bed, angling towards him so that the sides of their knees brushed together. "Yes." She settled her hands on his shoulders, circling the corners of his jaw lightly with her thumbs and leaning close. "Your patience is extraordinary."

"I expect full recompense." He brought his hand up under her chin, caressing her throat as he drew her into a soft, nuzzling kiss.

"Mmm," she murmured contentedly. "I think that can be arranged."

* * *

_Author's Note: I wrote that bit of dialogue about keeping away from Yuna's Sending while only halfway through the game. Did he listen to me? Noooo. *sigh*_

_A/N 2: This story was written in Feb 2006. I didn't post it until now because I was worried about posting a truly M story (after this chapter). But considering what else has been posted in this section, it's too late to be worried about that, eh?_

_There's a few quotes from this story that become a sort of running joke in my later A/L stories, or, sometimes, a more serious theme ("Don't think. Feel.")  
_


	2. Trust

Speech faded away as they fell into a silent duel of tongue darting against tongue, playful and hungry. Sir Auron tasted of the desert, of that fierce tang of sun-baked wilderness that could sear or parch the incautious traveller. Lulu's kisses were darker, sweeter, like the nectar of autumn fruits. The soft lamplight flickered over them, painting her pale flesh with a delicate flush and etching his upper body with dancing flame. Their fingers chased after the fleeting patterns of light and shadow playing across their skin: Lulu's nails lightly grazing Auron's sinewy arms or soaring down his chest, catching at a nipple; Auron's strong hands caressing, taking her breasts into his palms with a squeeze or bunching up the fabric of her robe as he kneaded her back and buttocks in emphatic circles.

_Very soon, he will be gone._ The stray thought made every touch more poignant. Her hands skimmed over him with a gentleness that she thought she had left behind some years ago.

Auron was less gentle. He snagged the sash of her robe and teased it open, then slipped his hands purposefully beneath the soft fabric, sliding over her curves in rhythmic, firm strokes. Lulu emitted a low, sultry murmur into his mouth and turned her head to lick his cheek and jaw, watching him through half-closed lids, drinking in the rugged planes of his face. She even found herself liking the drooping lid of the eye sealed closed by an old scar: it softened his stern looks, and gave a flawed, human touch to the imposing hero of legend. Forgetting their playful sparring and fencing for a moment, she stroked his tumbled hair back and raised herself to kiss the ruined eye gently.

Auron had not dropped his end of the game, however. He bit down on the tempting skin of her exposed throat. She gave a sharp cry. It was a good thing her hair tumbled loose on that side during the day, to hide any marks! Distracted, Lulu dug her nails into his shoulders. Auron grunted and abruptly seized her waist. With a deft twist, he lifted her up over one thigh and onto his lap, setting her down facing away from him.

"But I can't see you," she protested.

His palms slid up the sides of her belly and fondled her breasts, thumbs lightly stroking her nipples. "I'm... right... here," he said huskily.

"Aaaaah." She set her hands over his, digging in with her fingernails. "You're trouble," she repeated. Her lips curled into a smile as the accusation triggered another smug, "Hmph." He was so charmingly predictable sometimes.

Then again, sometimes he wasn't. "Relax," he whispered gruffly at her ear. "You're always thinking. Don't think. Just feel." He squeezed her nipples hard to punctuate his words.

She flinched and gasped appreciatively, but the words made her stiffen. She had never let her guard down completely even with Chappu, and certainly not with the enigmatic swordsman whom she had known only for a short time. Always, a part of her watched, judged, gave consent or withheld it. "A lecture?" she teased, moving restlessly against his chest.

"Trust me." His voice was as gravelly as ever, but surprisingly gentle. "Sit back and feel. You can do whatever you like after I'm done... assuming you can still move."

Lulu lifted her chin with a trace of defiance. "Oh, I'll last. And I'll hold you to your word, Auron." She lowered her hands to the sides of his thighs, stroking him through his trousers, and slowly let her head drop back against his left shoulder so that she could see the side of his face.

Auron turned his chin to kiss her forehead lightly. At the same time he spread out his left hand and gathered both her breasts together, squeezing, rolling, twisting, pinching her nipples between his fingers. His other hand drifted upwards, barely touching her skin with his fingerpads as he skimmed over the outer curve of her breasts, brushing the sensitive skin of her upper arm with whispery, circling caresses. Her skin prickled into goosebumps, and she let out a breathy sigh as he meandered over to the opposite shoulder, following the lines of her collarbones with fingertips barely caressing her skin. The contrast between his two hands-- the one firm and strong, groping her almost painfully, the other playful and tantalizing and soothing-- was electrifying.

Auron drew his right hand up over her face, stroking the fine planes of her jaw and cheekbones, covering her eyes. Again, he was demanding a subtle surrender of control on her part: she preferred to watch. Breathing heavily against the side of her neck, he nibbled her ear and thrust in his tongue. She moaned and squeezed the sides of his legs.

"Relax," he urged again in a coarse whisper. She let out a long breath and allowed herself to go limp against him, basking in the vivid sensations of his hands roving over her skin. Suddenly he twisted a nipple hard, making her bite back a cry that might well have woken the neighbors had his palm not clamped down over her mouth.

Auron lifted his hand away from her face, revealing his own crooked smile. "I'm warning you," Lulu rallied in that withering tone that usually sent Tidus scrambling for cover.

"I know." Quiet amusement softened his gruff voice. "Later." The warrior twisted around her and pressed his mouth over hers, but he would not let her tongue past his teeth. His kisses grew firmer, harder. His left hand dropped down to caress and knead her upper thighs, while the fingers of his right rained tingling, arousing caresses down her body, making her tremble when he reached the sensitive zone below her navel.

Through all of this Lulu was keenly aware that she was sitting in his lap. She could feel the muscles of his legs flexing beneath her-- and what lay between them, dormant for now. Ah, she wanted to feel him there! But the intoxicating devilry of his hands was keeping most of her attention delightfully preoccupied.

His left hand moved lower and shifted to the inside of her knee, then slid up her inner thigh, tracing invisible lines of fire with his fingers until his thumb lightly brushed against her sex. There he paused, touching her legs with fine feathery caresses. The pulse of his touch spread out in waves like water across her skin, and she half-expected to see ripples of silvery-blue light spreading out in circles or leaping across her skin like the flash of scattering minnows.

"Let go," he urged compellingly. "Forget it's me. Forget yourself. Just feel."

She leaned against him, half closed her eyes, and watched his fingers drumming a light rain of touches across her breasts as if his hand belonged to a complete stranger. Her body quivered and jumped under the delicious bombardment, and her breasts were beginning to heave with every breath.

Auron rubbed his face in her hair. His left hand moved inward, cupping her gently. He began darting a finger in, out, in-- a maddening dance, each time drawing a little closer to the center of her need until she was whimpering softly. Abruptly he jabbed his hand deeper, impaling her on three fingers. She gave a shocked cry and arched against him. The warrior growled and began to rock her with his body. One hand skimmed across her belly, breasts, and ticklish sides, sometimes pattering light touches, sometimes pinching, squeezing. His left hand danced in and out with firm quivering strokes, brushing against the sensitive bud outside and playing over her folds. She was caged between his arms, held fast against his chest, enveloped in his embrace. Yet she had never felt more free.

Lulu's gasping breaths became soft voiced sighs as the symphony of pleasure battered her from many points. The storm building within her was screaming for release in an explosive flare of light, but she was trying to heed his words, forget who she was, simply let the pleasure carry her along. She was moaning now as his hand probed her more deeply, plunging hard and fast with a deliberate shuddering motion that stretched her inner walls. His fingers were heated and slick, making delicious noises as he moved inside her. Her wet braids and hair thrashed against her shoulders and upper back as they moved together.

Auron made no sound, although he was breathing heavily, sporadically nibbling and kissing the side of her face tilted towards him. His touch served as speech. An eloquent caress over one full breast spoke volumes.

The warmth was spreading through her body in jarring waves. Auron was picking up the tempo, attacking her nipples fiercely as his hips rocked beneath hers, driving her more forcefully onto his thrusting hand. His thumb kept jabbing and sliding against her clit, catching it in circling motions, then losing contact, as they heaved together. Lulu was no longer aware of the throaty whimpers she was making. She was awash in the triple assault of the hand inside of her diving deeper and deeper, twisting and churning; a storm of touches and caresses engulfing her upper body, dancing from one area to another like lightning rolling back and forth across the sky; and hot kisses tumbling over her cheek, her jaw, her mouth, her eyes, her ear.

Lulu cried out as his hand gave a particularly deep twist at the end of one thrust, curling inside of her. He did it again with the next stroke, and again, each time triggering a fierce pulse of pleasure. She was beginning to writhe and struggle against him, but the arms around her kept her from slipping off his lap. With wordless pleading she bore down to meet his strokes, flexing her thighs together and squeezing his hand. One muffled rumble escaped from him despite his attempts to remain quiet and drown her in the whirlpool of her own body.

Suddenly, Lulu wrenched free of his frenzied assault on her breasts. Her body arched and stiffened. Auron reached up to clap his right hand over her mouth as she started to keen with deep, throaty moans. She bit down hard. At the same time her body's inner furnace seemed to contract into a band of sizzling ecstasy around the fingers buried deep inside her and explode outwards. She shuddered violently, moaning into his hand. Again and again the intense spasms rippled through her.

Finally, still trembling, Lulu sagged bonelessly against his chest. His fingers continued to swim in and out, softly, more softly, more softly still, easing her down from the crashing heights.

The mage opened her eyes, wondering how long they had been shut. Apologetically, she kissed the side of his hand where she saw white tooth-marks digging in. Auron cradled her face, giving her chin another gentle caress, then began to pet the damp skin of her body, soothing and prolonging the lingering fire.

Finally he slipped out his hand, bringing it up for her to taste before licking it himself with a satisfied rumble. "How do you feel?"

"Alive..." she moaned unthinkingly. "Oh, Auron, I cannot describe..."

"You already did." He settled his arms more loosely around her. "It was beautiful to watch."

~ To Be Continued ~


	3. Laying Plans

Flattery usually washed over her like stale bathwater, but Lulu had apparently shucked her usual cynicism along with her clothes. The sorceress rested against Sir Auron with a pleased, contented smile spreading across her features, basking in his warmth. Pleasant twinges were still tingling between her thighs like periodic depth charges. She let out a languid sigh.

"Tired?" he murmured at her ear. "Perhaps it's time for you to sleep."

"Oh, no," she purred, cuddling against him. "I have plans. Just let me catch my breath."

A low chuckle. "That... sounds like trouble."

"I'm sure it will be no trouble for a legendary hero." Lulu draped her arms over his, curling her fingers over his sword-hardened hands. As always, the mage could not help but appreciate his hidden power, his caged strength that cradled her as gently as Kimahri might cup a flower in his palm. His chin rested against her temple, and his warm breath on her cheek was soothing, quiet. They were both Guardians, used to putting their lives at risk for others, yet right now, the alien concepts of _safe_ and _protected_ felt very real. It was difficult to think of moving and breaking the spell of the moment.

It was also all too easy to imagine in the blissful afterglow that some unspoken communion was passing between them. Lulu was nothing if not pragmatic. Sex was sex, and lust was not love. Best to quash such thoughts quickly. Therefore she roused herself, turned in his embrace, and smiled coyly up at him. "As I recall, you said I might have my way, after you had yours."

Auron reached out to smooth aside the slanting curtain of black hair that tumbled across one side of her face. "I believe I did."

"And Sir Auron is famous for honoring promises." Her hands had come to rest again on his broad shoulders, and she dug her fingers in firmly, massaging him with subtle warmth.

"Indeed." The smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth reached his good eye. "So what's our itinerary?"

Lulu found a low wondering laugh, for the innocent question recalled that first sunlit day in Luca when he had come striding purposefully over the causeway and into their lives. "Well, you are a Guardian, after all. I think it may be time for you to face another Cloister of Trials." The sly glint in her eye would have struck fear into any living man.

His brows drew together warily, but the warrior's reply was prompt and confident. "I foresee no difficulty."

The sorceress chuckled. "We'll see." Her hands had worked their way around to the nape of his neck, where she paused to remove the band on his ponytail. Black and ash-colored hair came loose and fell like a crest between his shoulderblades. The ends were slightly ragged, betraying the swordsman's habit of trimming it with any handy blade. She brushed her fingers through it absently.

"Trying to put me off my guard?" Auron queried wryly.

"Maybe." Lulu wriggled and slipped off his lap, eliciting a faint groan. "Impatient? Well, then, I suppose we had better try the direct approach." She rolled her fingers expressively down his chest. "Take off your clothes."

Some men might have been shy, bashful, or clumsily impatient to show off their physique. Auron was none of these things. With exactly the same self-assurance as when he unsheathed his sword, he stripped before her appraising eyes. Not that he bothered with ceremony. One boot hit the floor, then the other. Calmly he stood and turned towards her, unbuckled his pants, and peeled them to his ankles, stepping out of them and folding his arms across his chest as if awaiting inspection. Lulu's breathing quickened as she beheld him clearly at last-- that first night in the forest had been too dark to see him properly-- and took in the raw physicality of the man. The bulky coat he normally wore had concealed a body not unlike some of the Aeons: sculpted muscle, every inch of him art, even the broken lines of scar tissue lapping the right side of his chest that twisted downward from his cheek like buckled ice in a frozen river.

In the glow of the oil lamp behind her, Auron's body seemed to be licked with flame. She had already begun to memorize the muscular contours of his chest and flat stomach, heavy shoulders and brawny arms toned to wield the weight of a blade most men would barely be able to lift. His legs and lean hips had the same treetrunk solidity. His sturdy calves were built for occasional bursts of speed, sudden leaps, crouching swings. The bold sign of his virility keenly reminded her that Chappu had been a boy. It was stout and solid, anchored in dark curls that made her fingertips tingle with the memory of touching him. The shaft stood slightly away from his thighs and begged to be stroked to full power.

_Not yet._

Lulu moistened her lips, savoring the flickering light playing over his hard flesh, and beckoned him to her with a fingertip.

The swordsman sank to one knee beside the bed, enveloping her in his arms and kissing her deeply and firmly. His body molded against hers. She groaned softly when his cock brushed against the still-tingling skin of her inner thigh. Again, she had to steel herself to wait. She wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing the toned firmness of his buttocks. Lulu suckled his tongue with something else clearly in mind. Growing aroused by the heat of his body pressed against hers, she was sorely tempted to toss aside her schemes and surrender herself to the greedy pulse of yearning that was beginning to build inside. But at last she relinquished his tongue and kissed both of his cheeks. "Now," she said breathlessly, "lie down." Her eyes darted sideways towards the head of the bed. "On your back. The Trial hasn't started yet."

"I was beginning to wonder if you had gone astray in the Calm Lands," Auron quipped, disentangling himself from her. Normally his words would have stung, but present circumstances had put any thought of their Guardian duties pleasantly on hold. Circling her waist loosely with one arm, Auron rolled around her onto the bed and stretched out, propping his head on his arms. The move afforded her another mouthwatering spectacle. Lulu swung her legs up onto the shelf-bed and carefully climbed over him, bracing herself above him with her hands planted above his shoulders so that her robe hung open. Her full breasts dangled tantalizingly close to his chest.

Sir Auron let his gaze travel over her from scalp to toe, unhurriedly lingering at sights along the way. The sorceress enjoyed very much the intense scrutiny, feeling her cheeks grow flushed as his keen eye feasted on the curve of a hip, a trim ankle, the bed of silky black fur between her legs. When he returned his full attention to her face, Lulu smiled alluringly down at him, issuing a gentle but firm command: "Eyes closed."

The battle-scarred warrior gave her a wry look.

Lulu chuckled, leaned down, and kissed his left eyebrow. "_This_ one, at least."

"Hmph." But he obeyed.

"Now don't look." The mage rose to her feet and slipped across the room to the window, moving carefully so as not to trip over anything. The great sword's hilt clanked against the wall when she lifted it. Lulu shot a glance over her shoulder to confirm that he was, for the moment, still playing along. Pleased, she dragged the stool across the floor with one foot to mask the sound of the weapon being drawn from its sheath. Then she returned to the head of the bed. "Lift up your head and shoulders a little," she instructed. When Auron had complied, she carefully eased the broad, flat blade underneath the mattress, leaving its hilt protruding.

Finally Lulu retrieved the discarded linen sash of her robe and trailed the ends of it lightly over his chest. "Now, I want you to raise your hands over your head. No peeking, no- grabbing!" she laughed, dodging as he reached for her. But that was exactly what she had expected. She threw a wide loop around his wrists and swiftly drew it tight, slipping one end under the other to form a half-knot.

His smile was amused. "Are you having fun?" he queried diffidently. "You can't honestly think that shoestring is going to hold me."

"Of course not." Lulu bent over him, kissing his forearms as she gently pushed his hands back and down. She threw another loop around the sword's hilt and twisting the sash to leave about two hand-spans between his wrists and the weapon. Then she tied a pair of firm knots.

"So?" Auron said, twisting his hands experimentally.

Lulu sat down to enjoy the view. "So if you keep doing that, you might bend your sword. There's no bedpost; I had to improvise."

He growled and his good eye snapped open. The mage was perched almost primly on the edge of the bed, gazing down at him with a decidedly roguish smile.

"You never asked," Sir Auron said crossly, "whether I liked it when _you_ were trouble."

"No," she purred. She bent over him, mouth hovering tantalizingly a few inches above his. "So, for your Cloister of Trials, do you prefer fire and ice, or thunder and water?"

There was a soft groan. "On the whole," he muttered, "I prefer you with fur and leather, but in lieu of that, I'll take fire and ice."

Sliding over the bed, she straddled his thighs, tantalizingly just out of reach so that silky fur would barely brush him when she moved. "Now," she purred in that hypnotic voice, "the challenge for this Trial is silence. If you make a sound, all the puzzles will reset themselves, and you will have to start over from the beginning. Understood?"

"Oh, no." Auron dropped his head back against the pillow with a thump and chuckled, shaking his head. "You do realize this could take days. I don't see much incentive for 'solving' your puzzles."

Her eyes gleamed. "The Chamber of the Fayth?"

"Ah." He snorted, but there was a pleased glint in his eye. "I should have guessed."

"Shall we begin?" She shimmied out of the robe, smiling at his intent gaze. "Three trials there will be. The first: to stand and watch."


	4. Cloister of Trials

An oil lamp flickered in a small alcove in the wall above the bed. The flame carried a faint scent of spices, not that any were needed just now. The heady perfume of sex still wafted through the narrow room in the aftermath of the ravishing Auron had given Lulu a short time ago. Now she knelt across his legs and feasted her eyes on the muscular swordsman's body beneath her, his arms stretched behind his head and bound loosely to his own sword-hilt. She had jammed the blade of the weapon beneath the mattress, so that the weight of his head and shoulders would hold it down. A flimsy artifice, but it would serve.

Oh, but Auron did not look the least bit helpless with his wrists bound together by a simple cloth sash. A sardonic gleam was in his eye as he watched Lulu settle over him. Naked, pinned under her against the sheets, he lay in perfect repose, his arms relaxed, his face maddenly calm. A man unruffled by all kinds of fiends, who would raise a jug of sake in a toast to Sin on the brink of armageddon, was hardly likely to be discomfited by a witch, however lovely, and a mere scrap of linen.

Lulu liked challenges, especially when they presented themselves in such attractive packages. She had decided that firelight suited him best, for it revealed every contour of sinew and muscle, every weathered line and scar that gave his skin character. As one who took a certain pride in appearances, she was also well aware that her own bare white skin was bathed in a soft golden-red glow by the same lighting. She shone with fire as Shiva shone with ice.

The mage was putting on a show for him, dark lips curled in an arrogant smile. Her expressive hands slid up her thighs from her knees, weaving back and forth. With her crimson eyes firmly locked upon his face, she began to sway her hips, her shoulders, moving in a sinuous slow dance that flattered her voluptuous curves. Her fingers drifted past her sex with a flourish, crisscrossing in lazy spirals over her navel and around the inward nip of her waist, working her way upwards with luxuriously sensual caresses that made her shiver, remembering his strong calloused hands. She stroked under and around her breasts, slowly circling towards her nipples until her thumbs rubbed over them, coaxing them to stand out sharply. Rising higher, she traced the delicate lines of her collarbones and shoulders that bore a few telltale marks from his rough play, and ran her nails up the side of her neck and throat.

His singular gaze noted every detail of her performance with keen attention, and his breathing had quickened noticeably.

Lulu paused and arched over him, bringing her face close to his. Her taut nipples just barely brushed his chest. "So," she said in a throaty whisper, "are you enjoying the view?"

Auron gave no reply, of course, but the twitch at the corners of his mouth was concisely eloquent.

Lulu smiled. The terms of this "Trial" were surely child's play for the laconic warrior. The real test was hers: make it enough of a challenge for him that he might, just might, lose his grip on his stubborn self-control.

She sat up again, although she longed to kiss that smug, reserved smile until it melted into raw lust. Undulating her hips slightly so that the fringes of her soft fur petted the tip of his erection, Lulu slipped her right index finger into her mouth. Still holding his gaze, she drew it slowly in and out, full lips moistening her white skin until it glistened. Her mute observer grimaced faintly and pushed his hips towards her, but she moved in synch with him so that the prize was always just slightly out of his reach.

The concentration knitting Sir Auron's forehead was a promising sign.

Having imposed no such rule on herself, Lulu gave a throaty sigh as she closed the finger and thumb of her left hand over one of her nipples and teased herself before his smoldering gaze. She continued to suck her finger, pumping it sightly faster, while her left hand roamed her body. Eventually, after skirting her sex several times, she let two fingers slide down through her dark curls. Her warm flesh still flushed from his attentions, and she felt a soft drumbeat of delayed pleasure the instant she touched herself. "Mmmmm." She removed her finger from her mouth and leaned slightly forward to trail the wet fingertip across his stomach.

"I can still feel your hands on me," the sorceress whispered. "_In_ me. I wonder if you'll get that far again tonight. Can you feel yourself... here?"

She pressed the two fingers farther into her folds.

"Here?"

Deeper still, and she jumped as she pinched the sensitive hidden nub.

"Here?"

Lulu plunged her fingers inside, marveling at the lingering heat there. With a husky, musical sigh, she began to work her hand in and out, knuckles bumping against his legs. "I can," she said. "Your fingers. Your hand. You in me, riding me until I can't think or breathe." Lulu's self-pleasuring was not silent; the smack of her fingers was clearly audible above their ragged breathing.

Auron's hands clenched one over the other, and she saw his vision turn inward for a moment as he struggled for self-mastery.

Lulu's fingers were stirring to life a throbbing need. She kept stroking herself until she was beginning to find it difficult not to take him then and there. Her breath caught between her teeth when she slipped her fingers out and stroked their wetness across his upper thighs. Then she crawled up his body again and bent close to lick his cheek. "I want you there, Auron. It's all I can do not to take you right now."

The swordsman watched her stoically, his smug smile settling back into place. Both knew perfectly well who had won that round.

Lulu smiled down at him. "First puzzle finished," she pronounced, bringing her fingers to his mouth and touching his lips. He sucked deeply, tasting her sweet juices for the second time that evening.

Exhaling, she drew her hand out again and caressed his cheek. "Next puzzle... I think you said something about fur as well?"

She saw the anticipatory glint in his gaze and grinned slyly. Oh, no, that wasn't what she had in mind, at least for the present.

Lulu reared up and threw her head back, shaking out her damp hair. The beads of her braids clicked behind her. Catching two braids in each hand, the mage began to trace almost the same route on Auron's magnificent body as she had demonstrated to him a short time ago. The beads and damp tresses skimmed lightly up his well-muscled thighs. She made a few taunting feints towards his straining member before bypassing it and moving higher. His lower body jerked, but he held out, closing his eye and breathing deeply for a moment to collect himself. When he refocused on her face, he smiled grimly and licked his lips. Lulu laughed out loud at the almost cheeky gleam in his eye.

Auron's ordeal eased slightly when she reached his stomach. Lulu let herself play over his skin, painting it with consummate strokes, following the slight hills and valleys accentuated by the flickering lamplight. She dipped the tip of a braid in his bellybutton, danced up the sides of his ribcage, tickled his chest and nipples, and traced invisible glyphs and signs over the canvas of his skin, paying mute homage to his body's splendor and the weathered tracks of old scars. Still moving upwards, she painted her way up his arms with soft, nuzzling strokes. As she toyed with the ticklish skin of his inner arms, his hands shifted restlessly against his bonds. His body, however, was starting to relax.

Not for long. Auron jerked in surprise when a wet braid abruptly smacked across his cheek. A second later, Lulu brought another whipping down across his chest, hard enough for the bead to leave a sting. The style of his deadly swordplay had inspired her to invent a new game especially for him.

She mimed a kiss to him as he struggled to get his features back under control. He shook his head slightly, a faint hint of amusement in his grimace even now.

Lulu smiled wickedly and went on. Alas, she had to take her eyes off his face as she began to seek out all his most sensitive places, but the faint hiss of his breath between his teeth told her when she had scored a hit. Now and then she glanced up to monitor his expression.

The swordsman's body shifted restively under hers as she rained gentle torment over his flesh. She lashed the beads against his skin with firm, crisp snaps, or paused to caress and stroke him with the loose ends. The pattering torment was startling, yet in time he began to acclimate to it. Gradually the muscles of his face and brow relaxed. Waiting until his eye had drifted halfway closed, Lulu abruptly cast one braid down towards his groin with a twisting, spiraling motion.

Snap.

The sinews stood out in Auron's arms, his hands clenched, and his body arched away from the bed, but somehow he managed to remain mute. His features knitted with strain.

The wet braid unwrapped and fell away from his shaft, which was jutting away from his thighs like the prow of a ship over the sea.

"Shall we try that again?" Lulu murmured in her most alluring whisper.

The raw emotion in his gaze was hard for her to read, but she assumed by the way his chest rose and fell that Auron was mentally preparing himself. Lulu dangled a braid teasingly against the base of his member, stalling, although the next stroke could hardly be a surprise. With a quick motion that he could not properly see, she palmed the bead at the end of the braid-- she did not want to hurt him. Predictably, he tensed at the sudden movement. She gave him a little more time to ponder, then slapped the cool, wet braid down at an angle to encircle his manhood like a snake coiling around a branch. Her black hair spiraled around his tawny flesh. There was aching poetry in the sight: if only it were really so easy to tether him to life! But at least she had disproven his doubts once and for all: there were ways to coax the most life-affirming of instincts back into the battered shell he wore.

Lulu paused to tickle the firming flesh of his shaft with gentle caresses, careful not to brush against it with her knuckles.

Auron watched with fervor, following the flash of her arms as she moved, the graceful motions of her hips, the supple swing of her breasts with every beat of this intimate dance. She was fully aware of his gaze burrowing into her as she skipped over his skin, plashing stinging slaps over his chest, his belly, his legs, or bathing him once more in feathery strokes. Sometimes he jerked or shuddered as a bead caught a sensitive spot. His shaft was arching away from his body now, silent testament to the groans he was holding in. Again Lulu was tempted to end the torture early. How much could he take before it became more pain than pleasure? Sir Auron's breathing had grown raspy, but he remained stubbornly mute, radiating a raw, animal strength like a predator waiting for just the right moment to spring.

The mage's nimble hands flew faster and faster, until finally she circled in to lavish her attentions on his cock. She yearned to take him in her mouth, but stubbornly postponed that prize for later. The braid she was chiefly using had begun to unravel, and the wet strands fell around his manhood like ribbons of silk. Auron twisted against the sheets, thrusting his groin towards her. She wanted to answer the silent demand. Instead, she trailed all four braids up his body and folded herself over him again, a hint of compassion in her eyes. "And that was the second passage," she whispered, brushing his hair out of his face. There was a faint sheen of sweat on his brow. Yet he regarded her almost coolly. Her stomach did a flipflop at his eerie self-control. There was a feral intensity to his gaze, yet his expression had relaxed as soon as she stopped tormenting him. When she drew near enough for a kiss, however, Auron pounced on her passionately. The pent-up power behind his fiery kisses nearly robbed her of her senses.

Lulu buried herself eagerly in his mouth, cradling his head in her hands. His silence had affected her too; Lulu made no sound as their tongues thrust and strove together. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, and his aching erection shoved pleadingly against her stomach.

_Not yet_, she was forced to remind herself yet again, feeling the answering heat and need throbbing between her legs. She had not told him how many "trials" there would be, but she had promised him at least one more.

There was still fire and ice.


	5. Chamber of the Fayth

Still lost in the storm-surge of Auron's mouth, Lulu slid her hands down the back of his neck and behind his shoulders, massaging the taut muscles from below. _Don't ignite the bed_, she reminded herself giddily. Smiling, she dragged herself away from his burning kisses with some reluctance, coming up for air with an appreciative murmur. Her firm fingers kneaded a track around his body, coming up on either side of his ribcage until her palms were resting lightly on his chest, drifting in lazy circles. The wary look in the swordsman's eye hinted that he had a good idea what she was planning next.

Lulu inhaled deeply, drinking in the man's leather-and-iron scent. Her hands came to a stop, barely touching him. She breathed out. Shining in the lamplight, a fine patina of frost spilled out from under her hands in minute branching veins like an expanding snowflake, spreading out across his glittering filaments melted away almost instantly against his heated skin. Auron's body quivered like a plucked harpstring, and his lips parted in a silent sigh. Oh, she wished she could kiss him, but the distraction would surely break her focus! Smiling down at him, the mage cupped her hands slightly while maintaining contact with her fingertips, and began to tease him again with slow, circling caresses. Ten paper-thin ribbons of ice skated across his bare chest, quickly dissolving into wet streaks. The mage danced above him, moving in time to the swirling flourishes of her hands, occasionally dipping her head to kiss, lick, bite or blow on his damp skin. Goosebumps prickled under her gentle handling.

By Yevon, he was beautiful.

Auron moved with her, rolling and twisting slightly from side to side, feet digging restlessly into the bedsheets. Turning, the sorceress reached down to paint a thin line of frost up from his instep, around his calf and knee, along the long muscle of his thigh, skirting his groin before passing over his stomach, punctuating the end of the journey with a twist of one nipple. Auron's stomach muscles clenched as she sailed over them. Returning to his upper chest and arms to ply her delicate art, she found herself drawn into his compelling gaze. There was a fierce glint in his eye, yet apart from the occasional grimace, his features were still held under tight control. Lulu found herself holding a mute conversation with him, enjoying the feint and parry of his defiant gaze egging her on, or his eye squeezing shut when she drew another charged wave of sensation from his overtaxed frame.

The surface of his skin was beginning to cool. Adjusting her fingers slightly, Lulu pressed her lips together in concentration and brought other energies to bear. Suddenly her fingertips were leaving faint trails of orange sparks, her nails glowing like hot coals. Auron exhaled so explosively that she might have disqualified him, had she been inclined to apply her rules strictly. Continuing the delicate torment, Lulu took care to keep her hands moving fast enough not to sear or burn him, only leave behind invisible caresses of vibrant heat. Her fingers left tiny trails of steam whenever they skimmed through the water that puddled in the hollows of his flesh.

Gradually she began to alternate elements, chasing fire after ice, ice after fire, teasing and worshiping his body in equal measure. Sometimes she gave both of them a brief respite by abstaining from magic and reverting to more ordinary caresses. Slowly, inexorably, she glided closer to his erection, which had relaxed only slightly during her soothing ministrations of his upper body. Auron's panting breaths deepened, and he was watching her now with the slightest hint of apprehension. "Shhh," she said soothingly. "Relax." She made no promises, for it might be an insult to his pride if she hinted that he was afraid, but Lulu had no intention of truly hurting him. At the last second, the sparks jumping off her fingernails changed to glittering frozen beads like sleet, catching in the dark hair around his erection. Then she drew one chilled fingertip slowly from base to tip. The swordsman's mouth fell open silently, throat muscles straining to check any sound. Lulu twisted around beside him and kissed the head with utmost gentleness before stroking back down his shaft with a line of muted warmth. There was a faint clank above her, probably the sound of the sword-hilt bumping against the bedframe.

_At last! _

It seemed like hours since Auron had first stripped and offered this mouthwatering temptation to her eyes. With a faint moan, the sorceress wrapped her hand loosely around his erection and caressed it almost tenderly-- almost. Every few strokes she applied a splash of heat or cold, varying her technique at random so that Auron never knew whether he was about to battle fire or frost between this moment and the next. Finally, breathing deeply, she lowered her head and took him tenderly between her lips. Again, she heard his breathing catch and break off as he ground his teeth together. His hips bucked fiercely, driving deeper into her mouth. Lulu lapped and sucked greedily, sorry now that she had pushed him so hard earlier, for it meant that she would not have long to savor this.

Her hand was moving faster. Beneath the thin layer of damp silky flesh he was like marble, and Lulu guessed that pride alone must be keeping him quiet. _Enough._ Lulu sank down onto his cock for one final taste, dragging her teeth lightly as she pulled away. Then she climbed over him and gathered him tenderly into her arms. He was breathing in great gulps, but there was a crazed triumph in his eye that made her want to whoop with laughter and joy for the sheer gall of the man in letting her do this to him. She had tried his patience enough, however, and would not add laughter to other indignities. Instead, she rubbed her face against his cheek. She was shocked to find it was damp with tears.

"Congratulations, Guardian," she whispered, planting a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. "I do not think Spira has ever seen such a heroic effort."

Twisting his hands vaguely against their bonds, Sir Auron seemed to have lost the power of speech. Instead he let out a long, growling rumble, like the sound of an approaching off-shore wave building as it crashed over reefs.

Reflecting that she might be safer if she left him bound for the duration, Lulu stretched gracefully over him, reaching up to untie the sash that held Auron bound to the head of the bed. Another guttural sound broke free of his chest as her knee brushed against his erection. The sash came loose. Incredibly, although he was now staring at her with predatory intensity, the warrior turned away from her immediately to pull the sword free of the mattress and set it carefully on the floor beside the bed. Then he twisted around to grab her by the waist in a bruising grip.

Lulu laughed breathlessly, in spite of herself. "Oh, Auron." Trust an old soldier to remember his sword even in the clutches of passion! She felt a thrill of fear as well, observing a spark of madness in his gaze, reminding her of what the Unsent sooner or later might become. But her voice held steady. "The Chamber of the Fayth awaits. Enter."

Auron rolled her swiftly beneath him. The mage had no time to catch her breath. With an economy of movement he thrust into her so fiercely that it felt like losing her virginity all over again. She cried out, beads of perspiration springing up across her skin.

Their first lusty coupling outside Bevelle had reached a feverish crescendo, but Lulu presently discovered that Auron had been holding back that night. Now the legendary warrior unleashed himself into her with the same fury he usually reserved for the height of battle. She could barely breathe as he slammed into her again and again, holding her shoulders down to keep her from creeping up the bed. She had no voice to beg him to stop; all she could do is cling to him powerlessly while he battered her. His cold face was a stranger's mask as surely as when he girded himself behind cowl and dark lenses; she might just as well have bedded Ifrit. Her body rocked with every thrust. They had been careful earlier, but her choked cries were surely audible through the walls.

Incredibly, however, a spreading euphoria was creeping through her limbs. His pounding thrusts were too deep, yet the ache fell through and past her as if it belonged to some other body. The sorceress was swimming in thunder, drunk in the raw, tangible reality of his body's power and strength. She could feel the exquisite texture of him sliding in and out of her, slick with her arousal, burning with his own. He stretched her, filled her, hurt her, but the miraculous sensation of Auron, Sir Auron, buried inside her body made ordinary reality seem as insubstantial as dreams.

Lulu wanted more. Gods, she wanted more, even while she clawed feebly at his upper arms and struggled to breathe. She wrapped her legs around his thighs and flung up her hips to meet him. Even now she was dimly aware of that profound energy that rippled through his body's shell, knitting sinew to bone to weathered skin, and it felt as if the sweat and moisture cleaving their flesh together was pouring that power into her. Her body was singing with it, and Lulu felt every rasp of his flesh against her naked skin like a stab of Holy light from a Summoner's staff. She transfixed, while Sir Auron moved through her like a sandstorm.

Watching him in a trance, Lulu saw the moment when his wild features relaxed and went still, a sudden profound calm coming over him like the silence of a distant flash of lightning. Then the thunder came. He shuddered into her again and again, grunts coming in hot, raspy bursts behind his teeth. She wrapped her arms around his broad back and held on, trembling, heart pounding as he spent himself in her heated flesh. Lulu felt herself growing dizzy. Even when his movements began to slow, he continued to rock against her with a deep, primal beat, his hot breath puffing against her forehead. At last, the bed began to spin, and then the whole room, and her vision blurred and constricted until the only thing left was the faint flickering flame of a wick floating somewhere high above her in glittering darkness-- then the world fell out beneath her with a high keening moan, and she lay drowned in a lake of pleasure where she had no name.

Awareness came back slowly. The warrior's painful grip on her shoulders began to relax. The weight of his chest was still crushing her into the bed, and Lulu felt his hot breath rasping against her cheek. She stirred weakly and found his face beside hers, turned towards her where he had collapsed across her into the pillow. The madness seemed to have left him. Enigmatic Sir Auron was back, as steady as ever, his expression hooded, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was not quite himself, of course: his hair was disheveled and wild, and sweat was dripping in his eyes. But his gravelly, unhurried voice was exactly the same.

"Be careful what you Summon," he muttered drily.

The sorceress tried to laugh but had no breath for it. She pushed her knuckles against his chest in a mute plea. Carefully he extricated himself and rolled onto his side, hitting the wall with an emphatic thump, since there was nowhere for him to go. Lulu sighed out in disappointment. She was raw and sore, yet she had still been basking in the strange mystery of their bodies joined together.

"Next time," he said gruffly, as if reading her mind.

A bubble of laughter burst out, and Lulu hugged him weakly. "You'd permit me a next time, after that?"

His expression was ragged, weary, but thoroughly sated. "Did you hear me complain?"

She giggled briefly, but the deep, profound sense of benison still lapping them soon restored her to her usual solemnity. "I suppose not."

Auron smiled, reached out with a casual swipe, and rolled her against him. There was little room to spare, but she was probably in no danger of tumbling out of bed if they both lay on their sides. Drawing her close, the swordsman covered her mouth with a warm, slow, sensual kiss that lasted for several minutes. Lulu found herself relaxing in spite herself, and her eyelids began to sink shut.

"Are... will you stay?" she asked drowsily.

"If you can sleep like this?"

She cuddled closer, burying her face against his neck. "I think I could even fly."

"Hmph," he said, making her smile again. Taking in the sweep of her pale figure curled against him, Auron dislodged her enough to reach down and disentangle the sheets and blankets from their legs. Mage or no, she could not keep them warm all night. He arranged the covers over her with subtle thoughtfulness.

As Lulu drifted off, she found three words on the tip of her tongue that jerked her back to consciousness when she opened her mouth to speak. She frowned at herself. Dazed by sleep, she must have forgotten for a moment that the solidly male specimen holding her in his arms was still a stranger, an agreeable object of lust, but nothing more.

Auron had noticed the catch in her breathing. "Hm?"

The sorceress shook her head. "Nothing. Goodnight. Dream well, Auron, if you ever sleep."

Closing her eyes again, Lulu was careful to amend the stray thought into a phrase that made more sense, at least to her waking mind.

_I loved you, Chappu._

_.  
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_A/N: and with that story, my silly foray into the alternate reality of Auron/Lulu... at least until the pilgrimage's end... had found its steamy beginning. Most of which wasn't half as smutty, later.  
_


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